Zip Me -- SalazarHarry
by Batsutousai
Summary: The first time Harry and Salazar share a bed. Follow-up to In Éirinn.


**Title:** _Zip Me ~ Salazar/Harry_  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Author:** Batsutousai  
**Rating:** E  
**Pairing:** Salazar Slytherin/Harry Potter  
**Warnings:** PWP, frottage, premature ejaculation, (technically) underage, unbeta'd  
**Summary:** The first time Harry and Salazar share a bed.  
**Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N:** From a list of prompts on tumblr as a response to a prompt given to me by an anonymous commenter. The prompt was **"Zip Me", about Sal/Harry from your 'In Éirinn' fic?**

I will admit. I got this prompt and grimaced a bit because, really? Specifically _In Éirinn_? Couldn't I have gone with _any_ Sal/Harry pairing? And then I realised you'd all be insanely lost if I used the Salazar and Harry I'm more familiar with. (I need to finish that fic, seriously. And not just because magickmaker17's gonna suffocate me in my sleep over it. XD)

And, yeah, this really just ended up being smut. *shifty*

-0-

Life was busy once classes started back up, more so for Harry, who was learning how to juggle a professor's workload at the same time as trying to keep up with his yearmates and the sword practice Salazar insisted on. His teachers had agreed he could just drop his other classes all together, but those couple months on the run had taught him exactly how lacking his knowledge was, so he talked them into waving his essays and class attendance, but made sure he did the reading and spent an hour with Hermione each night, going over her class notes.

All told, it was rough, and it left very little time for anything more than a couple stolen kisses after sword practice. Not that that was a _bad_ thing, per say, because for all that Harry _wanted_ more, he wasn't really sure he was ready. He was still a student (technically, though he had professor quarters), for one, and Ginny's death still weighed on him a bit, for all that he acted as though it didn't, for appearances.

Christmas was only a brief relief, especially since Harry spent it catching up with, and then getting ahead of his classes. It helped him the next term, he was pleased to find, though preparation for NEWTs made that advantage almost moot.

After all was said and done, Harry and Salazar didn't end up in a bedroom together until after the train had left at the end of the year.

They were both a little awkward, Harry brushing his hands over the few personal decorations the Headmaster had allowed himself, while Salazar watched him from against one wall, eyes dark with interest. It was only once Harry had circled the room and come to a stop before the elder wizard that Salazar moved, one hand cupping Harry's cheek, the other fingering the top button of Harry's robe. "You can say stop," the Headmaster murmured.

"I'm not–" Harry took a deep breath and met the paler eyes without flinching. "I'm not going to. I _want this_, Salazar."

Salazar considered him for a moment, then nodded and leaned in to press his lips against Harry's. The younger man immediately returned the kiss, tilting his head and opening his mouth like it was entirely natural – it rather was, after months of stolen kisses – and reached up to take care of Salazar's buttons, as the elder was undoing his.

Harry's robe fell open first, loose and heavy on his shoulders as he fought with the last two buttons of Salazar's. The Founder took the chance to reach under Harry's robe, feeling along the cotton t-shirt the young man had taken to wearing – one of the many perks of not being a traditional student, was the lax rules about uniforms – until he found the bottom edge and could slip his hands under, thumbs brushing skin just as Harry finally won against the last button, letting out a triumphant sound that ended on a gasp.

They came apart briefly, both shrugging off their robes and tossing them towards the chair closest to the door; if an emergency occurred, the robes would be the easiest things to don and appear presentable.

A silent agreement passed between them to take care of their own shirts, and they raised them up and over their heads in near tandem before moving back together, hands splaying to discover dips and curves, scars ancient and recent. Stuttered breathing and quiet gasps marked those particularly sensitive spots; some were marked, others were timed such that making a note was impossible, too caught by a spot of their own.

Harry's fingers took to the top of Salazar's trousers first, circling around the waist, fabric bunched against the cord holding them in place. Salazar's sword belt hung low on his hips, the same spot Harry's trousers sat, and they moved in tandem to remove the other's sword, each treating the weapons like they might leap from their scabbards and bite. (Not entirely unheard of; Salazar had taught Harry a spell a little over a month ago that would call his sword to him from a distance, likely cutting any who were in the way.)

The trousers followed, Salazar stumbling over the button and zipper combo of Harry's jeans, while Harry managed the Founder's tie without a misstep, then let out a breath of a laugh and helped Salazar, murmuring quiet directions as he showed how to manage the clothing.

"Modern inconveniences," Salazar muttered, and Harry leaned up to kiss him, lips turned up with a smile and eyes bright with unvoiced laughter.

In retaliation for Harry's amusement on his behalf, Salazar reached past his pants and took hold of an interested cock with practised ease and a smile all his own.

Harry let out a broken noise, hips jerking forward without his conscious order, and he grabbed for Salazar's arm to steady himself. It was hardly the first time he'd been touched – Merlin knew he'd jerked off more than enough times in the stillness of his dorm bed, or the echoing openness of his staff room – but to have another's hand on him, someone with different callouses and longer fingers...

"Trainers," Salazar whispered, pulling his hand away and moving to kick his own boots off.

Harry swallowed at the loss and hurried to kick his trainers and socks off, followed by his trousers and pants.

Salazar chuckled and easily kicked his own trousers off before stepping forward, crowding Harry with hands on his hips until the backs of his knees struck the bed. The teen teetered for a moment, then allowed himself to fall back onto the sheets, legs tangling with Salazar's and purposefully unbalancing him, so the elder man follows him down.

Two pairs of green eyes, slightly different shades around similarly blown pupils, gleam with amusement and victory.

And then Salazar, who had been balancing his weight above the teen, settled down, their cocks sliding against each other in a most delicious suggestion of friction. Harry lets out a long groan at the contact, arching up for more, more, _more_, and Salazar gives it to him with a shuttered breath, sliding up until he could catch Harry's lips, swallow that needy sound down like his favourite pudding.

Unexpectedly, Harry tensed. Salazar started to pull away, afraid he'd pushed too far, but then he recognised the slide of ejaculate between them, and the helpless bliss crawling over Harry's features.

Salazar resisted the urge to laugh and set about nuzzling the teen's cheeks, his chin, his nose, waiting for him to settle back into his body and remember where he was. (And, depending on Harry's reaction, Salazar might allow himself some teasing.)

"Oh God," Harry breathed as he returned to the present, the older swear slipping from his tongue, where he usually would have used the more magical variation. He buried his face against Salazar's throat, and the Founder could feel the heat of his blush all the way down to where their chests were pressed together. "I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_–"

"Harry," Salazar interrupted, unable to completely keep the amusement from his voice, and the teen moaned at it. "Harry, it's _fine_." He nudged the teen's head with his chin until Harry peeked up at him, somehow managing to look far more attractive while sporting the bright red blush than Salazar ever could. "One of these days, I'll tell you about _my_ first time."

Sly amusement eased Harry's blush, turning up one corner of his lips in a way that shouldn't have been near so attractive.

Salazar leaned down again, his lips tickling the front edge of Harry's ear. "Shall we see how long it takes you to come again?"

Harry swallowed hard, then whimpered when Salazar slid against him, the teen still feeling a bit over-sensitive.

Salazar didn't ease up, but he kept his movements slow, and paid lip-service – quite literally – to Harry's jaw and neck, never quite hard enough to leave evidence, but enough that Harry knew.

When Harry's whimpers faded back into groans, his fingers coming up to dig bluntly into Salazar's sides, the elder wizard took it as a sign to change his rhythm, a little bit rougher, a lot faster, and Harry's fingers pressed even harder into his sides, head turning and mouth seeking to lock with Salazar's.

When the blinding pleasure came over them – Salazar slightly before Harry – they gasped appreciation against each other's lips, not quite a kiss, but nearly as good.

Once they'd calmed, chests no longer heaving against each other, Salazar pressed a quick kiss to Harry's lips, then rolled them over so they were laying on their sides. After a quickly cast cleaning spell for comfort, and another to draw the blankets over them without having to move, they settled in to sleep, Harry curled just under Salazar's chin like he'd been doing it for years.

..


End file.
